Wildly Inspired
by Lady Whitehart
Summary: There are so many HP theories out there that just beg to be turned into fics. I have traveled where no sane person should dare tread to do just that. WARNING! should not be read by sensitive people.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Wildly Inspired is a collection of poems and fics that came about from reading way too many Harry Potter theories. No names have been mentioned, because the some of the theories have originated from several different sources. And let's face it: one person's idea of a brilliant theory could be another's idea of outlandish crap. However, they are all precious to me and make great plot bunny kibble. My intent was to come up with some hopefully humorous stories--not to hurt anyone's feelings. If you are sensitive about any of the characters or 'ships being lampooned, read no further. Neither of us needs the grief, and I think I may have a tear in my asbestos undies.

Thanks to Verity Brown and Larilee, those poor individuals who were forced to beta read for me.

WARNING: The following poems and fics have no socially redeeming qualities and are designed to be borderline vulgar. No theory, 'ship or character is sacred. You have been fairly warned.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the theories mentioned below; however, I am very grateful for the existence of both.

* * *

_**Gotta Love Those Theories:  
A Tribute to Harry Potter Theorists Everywhere **_

Sometimes when I sit down to write,  
my plot bunnies scamper out of sight.  
In annoyance and desperation,  
I surf the web in exasperation.

One thing that will always cheer me  
is an interesting HP theory.  
Some are serious, and some are funny;  
Some gave birth to a plot bunny.

Now I'm using my strange sense of humor  
to entertain my fellow fanfic consumer.  
Enjoy the collection of stuff you see.  
I write for fun, not for money.

If you're someone who's easily offended,  
hitting the back button is recommended.  
The following things are a little crass,  
but please refrain from flaming my ass.

"Dumbledore just can't be dead!"  
the stricken, teary-eyed fans all said.  
How did he slip through death's noose?  
He and Snape swapped some Polyjuice!

If death he wanted to escape,  
why the hell would he pick Snape?  
Was it to save the Potions master  
from Unbreakable Vow disaster?

And speaking of our favorite Death Eater,  
here's a theory that's even sweeter.  
I'm sure that it drew many flames  
When they said he was in love with James!

Sorry, but it's much less silly  
to think Snape had an eye for Lily.  
If Snape and Lily had a such a thing,  
does that make them Slug Queen and King?

Now here's one I like the best.  
It's about the 'monster' in Harry's chest.  
When Ginny was in Tom's possession,  
she then became his lusty obsession!

The soul fragment just escaped the diary  
and joined the one lodged in poor Harry.  
Why else would he want to date  
the little sister of his best mate?

Voldie made a Horcrux of Harry?  
Now that thought is just plain scary!  
No, our hero deserves a life,  
a home, some children, and a wife.

Luna? Ginny? Hermione?  
Just one? Or perhaps all three?  
Will she be pretty, or will she be smart?  
Will she connive to win Harry's heart?

Now there's also the interesting notion  
that Harry was slipped a Weasley love potion.  
This is what happens when shippers get irate:  
you end up with things like Ginny the Pirate!

Then there's Ginny's pet Pygmy Puff,  
that little purple ball of fluff.  
Arnold is something beyond the norm:  
he's Bella in Animagus form!

I wonder if Voldie thought it was funny  
when Bella became a purple dust bunny?  
If he and Bella want to scheme,  
they must add Kreacher to the team!

Shipping is so _not_ my hobby.  
But what about the Squid and Dobby?  
Here's one that gave me a start:  
Sybill Trelawney and Gilderoy Lockhart!

Kick back, relax, take a seat.  
Grab a margarita and prop up your feet  
One final warning that cannot hurt:  
some of these have a nose/cola alert.

Enjoy, my luvs, and when you're through,  
please don't forget to leave a review!  
Even though I make no money,  
I still need something to feed the plot bunny.

* * *

Lady Whitehart takes a bow, deftly dodging the tomatoes that that have been thrown at her.

Now that I have your attention, what do you think? Are you curious as to how I can take any of these theories and make them into stories? If you are, leave a review and let me know.


	2. Desperate Measures

_"Now, there's also the interesting notion_

_that Harry was slipped a Weasley love potion._

_This is what happens when shippers get irate:_

_you end up with things like Ginny the Pirate!"_

A/N: Unrequited love... a desperate teen... a greasy git... How far will Ginny Weasley go to get the man of her dreams? Ginny Weasley sinks to the lowest point possible in order to capture Harry's affections. If Ginny comes across as a big bad Mary Sue in this one, I want you to know that was intentional.

Many thanks to Verity for helping me express myself.

WARNING! This fic should not, I repeat, NOT be read by sensitive 'shippers.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, and neither is the theory that inspired this fic. I claim no responsibility for any harm that results from reading this

* * *

**Desperate Measures**

Ginny slipped into the Potions classroom just before curfew. Classes would begin the next day and she was running out of time.

She had loved Harry since the moment she laid eyes on him, and her attempts so far to get him to notice her were not working out. It was only a matter of time before he realized that Hermione was his one true love, and Ginny couldn't let that happen. She had to act--and soon. She needed a love potion: a strong one. She had found a copy of the one her mother had made when she had been a student, but it just wasn't strong enough. She needed expert help, and her last possible choice was Professor Snape.

_Last chance to turn back._ Ginny closed her eyes. _There's no other way; I have to do this._ She knocked on the door of his office.

"Enter," snapped a harsh voice. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside. Snape looked up at her, his cold, black eyes raking over her body, harboring a mixture of lust and curiosity. "To what do I own this unexpected _pleasure_, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny hated the way he had emphasized the last word before her name. Her looks were a curse--even the greasy git wanted her. They all wanted her; everyone except Harry. If it wasn't for the fact that Harry didn't notice her, she would have started to wonder if she had veela blood in her veins.

"I--I need your help, Professor Snape."

"Miss Weasley, you do realize that it is nearly curfew, do you not? I cannot imagine what could be so pressing an issue that it won't wait until your first Defense class with me. Now, unless it is a matter of significant importance, you need to leave immediately."

"I need a potion, Professor," she burst out, before he could dismiss her.

Snape looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "So, your reputation has finally caught up with you. Who is the lucky idiot?"

"Harry Potter."

"What?" Snape asked in surprise.

She quickly figured out what he was talking about. "No sir. It's not like that, but I want him to finally notice me. I need a love potion, and I thought—

"Oh yes, nasty old Professor Snape--who couldn't get laid even if he wore a bag over his head--would be the one most likely to need, and therefore would know how to brew, a love potion." His voice was more bitter than she had ever heard it before.

"Well," she began, "you were the Potions master, sir. I just thought that you would be able to do it."

"Why on earth should I help you? I highly doubt," he said with a sneer, "you have anything to give that hasn't been enjoyed by half of the male population of Hogwarts."

Ginny had to think fast in order to come up with a way to convince him. The next thing she knew, Snape was towering over her, a greedy look in his eyes. "You do know, Miss Weasley," he began, his face only inches from hers, "that you looking strikingly like Potter's mother. Do you honestly think that I wish to see history repeated?"

"But--but you're my last chance!" She was getting desperate. Not only would she lose Harry, but she could sense that she was about to lose House points and maybe even end up with a detention. If she ever had to explain...

"Give me one good reason why I should help you ensnare the senses of the boy who lived to be a pain in my ass."

Ginny said the first thing that popped into her pretty red head. "Hermione Granger!"

Whatever Snape had been expecting, that obviously wasn't it. He staggered back a few paces, his eyes wide with shock. "What about Miss Granger?"

"Harry's really in love with her; only he hasn't realized it yet. If he ever does, she will make him wildly happy for the rest of his life. Do you really want to see that happen?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. Harry Potter, happy? No, he couldn't allow that. Under no circumstances should that little wanker have any bit of true joy, not while Snape was so miserable. But if he manipulated the circumstances correctly, there was no reason why he couldn't end up with a little something out of the deal.

"Very well, Miss Weasley. I will help you. On one condition: you give me the pleasure of your company for one night. There is an old fantasy I want to live out, and you would make the perfect partner for it." Snape ran a long, thin finger down the side of her face. Ginny realized that things were suddenly going hideously wrong.

"But I only just turned fifteen, sir. There are laws... " She only hoped that he gave a rat's ass about laws, but given his Death Eater past, she wasn't exactly optimistic.

"Damn!" He turned his back on her, wondering if there was a way to salvage this lose-lose situation. _Very well, I have avoided Azkaban all these years, and this little tart just isn't worth it._ He was suddenly struck with an idea. He faced her once again. "IF, for whatever reason this plan fails, and Potter ends up with Miss Granger, I want you to help me deliver him to the Dark Lord. I'm sure that if--in spite of your best efforts--he still rejects you, you will be more than happy to see him die."

Ginny was confident that, once the love potion wore off, Harry would realize that she was the ideal girl for him, not that bossy, bushy-haired know-it all that she had been forced to pretend to be friends with for the last four years, just so she could maybe get close to Harry. It was worth making a deal with Snape. Bravely, she thrust out her hand. He shook it, sealing the deal.

"Very well, Miss Weasley, I have in my possession a fresh batch of Amortentia. And no, it is none of your concern as to why I have it. All you need to do is--"

"But, sir!" Ginny protested wildly, her red hair dancing around her shoulders. "Amortentia is the strongest love potion there is! If I just give it to him in one big dose, everyone will know. I'll get expelled and--and Harry will hate me forever. He'll go rushing straight into Hermione's arms."

Ginny whipped up some tears for added effect. Not that they would probably have any influence on the bitter wizard standing before her, but she had to try.

"For the love of Merlin, girl, get hold of yourself! There is a way to slip it to him bit by bit. It will take some time for the potion to gain its full effectiveness, but it will work. Stay here for a moment, and I will explain." He strode to the door in the back of the office and disappeared through it.

Ginny was left to gaze around the room and contemplate how low she had finally sunk--she was depending on Snape to help her. Well, at least she was spared the prospect of having to sleep with him. Honestly, who would be so desperate that they would do such a disgusting thing? No one she could think of, but, according to Katie Bell, who had heard it from Angelina Johnson, there was the possibility that a Sarah or Sally something-or-other from Angelina's class actually did shag the greasy git. But seriously, a Gryffindor student and the Head of Slytherin?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Snape's return. He had a small cauldron in one hand and a book in the other. Ginny caught a whiff of leather, the woody smell of a broom handle, and freshly mowed grass as he set the cauldron on the desk.

"That, Miss Weasley, is Amortentia. A small ladleful of this, and Potter would throw himself at the Dark Lord's feet and pledge his undying--or in that case, dying--devotion. But you wish to take a more subtle approach; therefore, we will need this." He thumped a battered old book onto his desk. "It is my understanding that Potter wishes to become an Auror. One of the required courses is Potions, and fortunately for him, I am no longer teaching the subject. But it also means that he will have no supplies whatsoever. Which means he will need to borrow some, and the most important item will be the textbook."

Ginny looked from Snape to the book with a confused expression on her pretty, freckled face. He shook his head in exasperation at how slow she was to pick up the subtleties of the plan. "We will apply the Amortentia on the book. Over the course of several days, the potion will slowly be absorbed into the skin until the potion is concentrated enough to take effect."

Ginny grinned. It was so simple, so brilliant, so Snape. Then a horrible, disgusting thought occurred to her. "Professor Snape, my brother Ron is also going to be taking the class. What if he accidentally ends up with that book instead of Harry?"

"Miss Weasley, that is a chance you must be willing to take." His face held a look that clearly conveyed that he would find it rather humorous if such a thing did happen. "If he does, you may need to use your famous Bat Bogey Hex on him to protect your 'virtue' and uphold the family honor."

There was a huge possibility that this could go very wrong, but if she was lucky, then this could all work out for the best. She would finally realize her dream. "All right, Professor."

"In that case, I will just need..." He reached up to touch her vibrant red hair, a haunted look in his eyes. Without warning, he yanked out a long, red strand.

"Ouch!" Ginny reached up to rub the spot on her head where he had pulled out the hair.

"Nothing worthwhile ever comes about without a little bit of pain." Snape dropped the bright filament into the glass beaker that he had already filled with the potion. Ginny watched as the reaction took place. Expertly, the professor applied it to the pages of the old textbook. He indicated that Ginny should pick it up, saying curtly, "I think it would be best for you to handle it. I highly doubt it will have any effect on you. At the very worst, you will end up in love with yourself."

Ginny picked up the ratty book. "What should I do with it?"

Snape thought for a moment. "There is a pile of old Potions books in the supply cupboard in the classroom. Put it right on top; that way Professor Slughorn will be almost certain to hand it to Potter."

Ginny did as she was told, shutting the cupboard door with a loud thud. There was no turning back now. She jumped when she heard an impatient noise behind her.

"Two minutes to curfew, Miss Weasley, or you will find yourself in detention." He was still leering at her. He cocked his head to one side, as he watched her with an unnerving intensity. "Ambition, cunning, self-preservation, purity of blood... You could have done well in Slytherin. Such a pity you were sorted into Gryffindor."

She wasn't sure how to interpret that comment. She blurted out, "What will I do if this doesn't work?"

His eyes narrowed even further. "Well, there is always Draco Malfoy, isn't there?"

Stifling a laugh, Ginny fled the classroom at top speed. Ginny Weasley, daughter of the greatest bunch of blood traitors in the wizarding world, paired with Draco Malfoy, the embodiment of pure-blood supremacy? Not a chance!

* * *

A/N: When I first read the Ginny-Used-A-Love-Potion-On-Harry theory, I thought it was just some serious 'shipper... well, never mind. Anyway, some things scream, "Write me! I Triple-Dog Dare you." Leave a review to feed the plot bunnies on the way out. 

For those of you who didn't quite catch it, the Sarah or Sally person referred to is none other than Sarah Darkglass, the OC in Verity Brown's _A Merciless Affection_.


	3. Releasing the Beast Within

_ Then_ there's Ginny's pet Pygmy Puff,

_that little purple ball of fluff._

_Arnold_ is something beyond the norm:

_He's _Bella in Animagus form!

_I wonder if _Voldie thought it was funny

_when _Bella became a purple dust bunny?

_If he and _Bella want to scheme,

_they must add _Kreacher to the team!

A/N: It's always the seemingly innocent things that are the most dangerous. Voldie needs a spy in Gryffindor tower, and it's up to Peter Pettigrew to teach one of the Death Eaters the finer points of undercover work. The reason so very few people want to become an Animagus is explained.

As always, thanks to Verity for 'taking one for the team' and beta-ing my work!

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. The theory isn't mine either. I just own the twisted mind that came up with fic.

* * *

**Releasing the Beast Within**

In the gloomy drawing room of the old Riddle House, Voldemort gathered the members of his Inner Circle of Death Eaters. He had decided that he needed a way to have access to Potter's daily life. Since he had been found out, Wormtail was utterly useless for the job of pet rat. _Then again_, he mused, _Wormtail is generally quite worthless in most instances. _

But Wormtail's ability to change into a rat had given him the idea to have one of his minions transform into some kind of a pet. A pet who would then have access to the Hogwarts dormitories. Wormtail--being the only Animagus in the group--was given the task of teaching the other Death Eaters how to transform.

The rat-like little man strutted back and forth importantly. "It's not too difficult--"

"Obviously not, since you can do it, Wormtail," Snape jeered from the back of the group.

"Let's see you do it then, Snape. Although, there aren't any naturally oily animals," Pettigrew shot back.

Bella glared at Snape, pure maddened malice in her eyes. "Oh yes, Snape, let's see if you can manage this one. Or are you trying to slither out of this duty as well?"

"In case you have forgotten," he began stiffly, "I am already at the school. There is no purpose in subjecting myself to becoming a pet to one of those wretched brats."

"Severus, when was the last time you got to sit on someone's lap and be stroked for hours on end?" Gibbons taunted.

"Why, just the other night I-- " Severus angrily drew himself up. "That's none of your damned business!"

"Thank you for not sharing the sordid details of your personal life, Severus," Voldemort hissed. The last thing he wanted was to hear how someone as unattractive as Severus Snape spent that pittance of a salary the school paid him. Probably the best the oily little man could afford was some scruffy, cross-eyed, inbred almost-Squib. "Now, Wormtail, explain how one transforms into an animal, before I decide the best use for you is a snack for Nagini."

At this, all of the assembled Death Eaters snickered to themselves, while Amycus and Alecto broke out into raucous laughter. Voldemort was disgusted by their behavior. If this was the best that the pureblood world had to offer, he probably should be thankful that his idiot mother had decided to sully herself with Muggle filth--at least he had been spared the possibility of ending up like these fools. "Silence! "

"Right, then." Wormtail's beady eyes flicked back and forth between Snape and Bellatrix. "As I was about to say, everyone has an animal personality within them. Becoming an Animagus is tapping into that part of yourself. You won't know what you'll turn into until you actually transform, so keep an open mind and try not to force yourself into any particular animal."

"Why not?" Gibbons asked, looking skeptical.

Wormtail shivered. "Because if you do, you might end up spliced as two or three creatures."

"What a load of rot!" Snape snorted.

"It is not!" Wormtail protested. "Why do you think Sirius Black, the Gryffindor sex god, never went out with anyone? All those girls clamoring for his attention, and he never bothered with any of them."

"I assumed he was far more interested in Lupin than any of the girls," Snape argued.

Fury flared on Bella's face. "How dare you say such a thing about my dear, departed cousin--"

"That you offed," Snape reminded her silkily.

"Enough!" roared Voldemort, drawing his wand. "Wormtail, what happened to Black? I could use some levity about now. "

A wickedly gleeful look spread across the little man's face. "He ended up with a goat's genitalia."

"And how, precisely, do you know this?" Snape asked, staring the little man down.

Wormtail squirmed in discomfort and whispered, "That's none of your business, Snape. At least the entire school didn't get a chance to see--"

"Bella, try again," Voldemort interrupted; he really did not want to know what the entire school had seen, especially if it had anything to do with Snape's body.

Bella closed her eyes and tried to relax, this time whispering the incantation. Nothing happened until the third time she spoke the incantation. Suddenly there was a loud crack, and Bella disappeared. The Death Eaters looked around, trying to figure out where she had gone.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Amycus asked, pointing at what looked like an overgrown purple dust bunny.

"It looks a miniature Puffskein," McNair replied, prodding it with his foot. With an indignant warble, the purple puffball skittered out of his way.

Gibbons bent over to poke it with his wand. "I think it's Bella."

"Honestly, Bella, is that the best you can do? A ruddy Puffskein?" Snape sneered, picking her up by a few strands of hair. Bella squeaked furiously as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

"That is enough, Severus." Voldemort glared at him, suppressing the urge to kill Snape--and all of his followers for that matter--with a single wave of his wand. "Unless someone else is willing to volunteer, we need to come up an idea as to how to make the most of Bella's Animagus."

"Does it have teeth?" Alecto asked eagerly.

Snape dangled her above his face, mocking her inability to defend herself. Bella lunged for his nose, only to find that biting wasn't an option. Snape laughed at her. "Utterly **useless** as far as that goes. There will be no attack Puffskein, Master."

Suppressing the urge to scream, Voldemort began pacing back and forth. All he wanted was a loyal Death Eater to be placed in a position to keep an eye on Potter. Was that too much to ask? Why couldn't one of them be something a little more useful, like a Metamorphmagus? That way one of his Death Eaters could be disguised as one of the Gryffindor students and deal with Potter more directly. No, that would just make things way too easy.

"I've got it!" Pettigrew said, bouncing up and down in excitement. "I saw in the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes catalog that they have a new item--Pygmy Puffs. Draco could Imperious a student to slip Bella in with the lot when the store is full of students, and all Bella needs to do is make sure she gets picked by someone who is a Gryffindor. That Mudblood, Granger, already has a familiar, but the Weasley girl doesn't one. Yes, yes, she could become Ginny Weasley's pet! Oh, Bella, you won't mind it with her; she's very kind towards pets. You'll get plenty of treats and..." He broke off, feeling the fury of Voldemort's red eyes upon him. "Anyway, once she's there, she will have complete access to Potter. Why, she could put pretty much any plan into motion. Keeping him away from Granger is the key; she is the main part of the boy's brain."

The assembled group, including Voldemort, was stunned into silence.

"Wormtail, that is the most outlandishly preposterous idea I've ever heard, and I've been teaching for fifteen years," Snape mocked as soon as he recovered. "There is far too much room for error with this plan. How is Bella supposed to be sure the Weasley girl picks her? What is she supposed to do if she ends up in a cage the entire time?"

"I never said the plan was perfect!"

Snape smirked. "The understatement of the year."

Voldemort held up his hand to silence them. "You are correct, Severus. This plan is highly faulty." The dark-haired man gloated. "However, therein lies the reason it could work. It's such a random thing that there is no way that Dumbledore would ever expect it."

Snape's gloating sneer dissolved, and he dropped Bella to the floor. "Surely, Master, you cannot be seriously considering this plan?"

"Since--at this point--there is no alternative, I will take it into consideration." There was solid note of finality in his tone. "Wormtail, I will need you to change Bella back into her human form."

Pettigrew's satisfaction at having the Dark Lord side with him over Snape was short-lived. Muttering the counter charm, he reluctantly returned Bella to herself.

"Of all the disgusting things!" she sputtered. "A miniature Puffskein. I should have been something ferocious like... like..."

"A hippogriff with the trots?" someone supplied with a snicker.

"A jarvey with mange?"

"Maybe a moke with scale rot?"

"Shut up!" Bella screamed, brandishing her wand. "At least I had the courage to try! You men were too worried about damaging your--"

"Bella," Voldemort shot her a warning look. "Severus, you are to return to Dumbledore for now. I will be in touch with you."

Bowing low before his Master, Snape made ready to leave, but not before heard Bella hiss, "I'll see you in hell for this, Snape."

"No doubt because your idiot nephew will botch his plan after he takes your advice," he retorted coolly, before Disapparating.

"Come, Bella, we have much to discuss, and Wormtail has agreed to teach you the counter charm." Voldemort ushered her to another room.

* * *

For the last two days, since Gibbons--Polyjuiced to look like a student--had dropped her in the pen with the other Pygmy Puffs on display at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Bella had been waiting. If the Weasley girl didn't buy her, she hoped that Wormtail would remember to make sure that she was somehow freed from this terrible prison. She had cloistered herself in the far corner of the pen, possessively guarding her small stash of kibble.

Shortly after the redheaded blood-traitor twins opened the doors, the joke shop was packed with Hogwart's students. Bella tried her best to scurry around the cage and blend in with the rest of the pink and purple balls of fluff. This was the most frustrating experience she had ever had, looking cute and adorable, nibbling on whatever it was that they were fed, and trying not to be picked by one of the many silly teen-aged girls or small children that cooed over the cage. One little boy had poked her in the eye, and she had wished for the ability to bite, settling instead on emitting a loud, frightened squeak.

Bella retreated to the farthest corner of the cage. Maybe she should just try to lie low for a bit. This gave her time to contemplate her current situation. _I have to get into Hogwarts somehow. I will keep an eye on that idiot Potter and get back in the Dark Lord's good graces. And_, she thought, her annoyance getting the better of her, _I will find out exactly what Snape is up to and nail his greasy, traitorous ass to the wall_.

No sooner than she had finished the thought than one of the male puffs cuddled next to her. As unpleasant as the notion was, Bella decided to tolerate his presence. It wasn't until he began sniffing her that she became concerned. Without warning, the male puff tried to climb onto her back.

_ Bloody hell!_ Bella thought, letting out a screech and darting out from under him. She scrambled to the other side of the cage, colliding with a human finger.

"Oh, you poor little thing," crooned a girlish voice. Bella froze on the spot as a gentle finger stroked her purple fur. "Did he scare you?"

_ He did not scare me! He tried to mate with me, you bloody twit!_ Bella thought furiously. She looked up to see the face of a teenage girl with long, bright-red hair. Could it finally be the Weasley girl? Perhaps she would be able to get out of this furry hell that she had volunteered to be stuck in. Yes, yes, she would be able to do her Master's bidding at last, she would return to his good graces, and best of all, she would eliminate Snape.

Yanked from her thought by the sound of raised voices, Bella peered between the bars of the cage to see the one thing that could finally put her plans into motion. A middle-aged, dumpy, red-haired woman was telling off a teenage boy in furious tones--Molly Prewett Weasley.

"If I see you do that again, I'll jinx your fingers together."

Bella snickered inwardly. _It would be best to do more than that, Molly._

Just then the girl interrupted. "Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?"

"A what?"

"Look, they're so sweet."

The girl got her mother to come over to the cage, and Bella had to forcibly suppress the urge to change back into her human form and curse the pudgy blood-traitor into oblivion. One of the owners opened the top of the cage, allowing his younger sister to put her hand in to pet them. They were soon cooing over the various pink and purple balls of fluff. Much to Bella's dismay, the garish pink male that had recently tried to mount her was snuffling against the girl's hand.

_ You will not steal my way out of here!_ she thought, plowing into him and knocking him out of the way. Immediately she began making a purring noise as she nestled into the girl's hand. She was getting the hell out of here even if she had to crawl up the girl's sleeve to do it. Sadly, the stubby, long-toed feet of a Pygmy Puff weren't very conducive to climbing.

"Oh Mum! Can I have this one? It really wants to come home with me," the girl cooed, cuddling Bella to her shoulder.

Molly took the fluffy purple ball from her daughter. Bella continued to purr against her will. _You had damn well better say 'yes.' _

"Do they require a lot of care, George?"

"Not at all, Mum. And since we didn't give Ginny a birthday present yet, the Puff is half price, and I'll give you four months of food and a carrying cage for free," the young man said, smiling.

"Well... "

"Please, Mum."

_ Listen to her if you value your pointless, broodmare existence, Molly_, Bella thought, her purr stalling slightly.

Molly eyed her critically. "Oh, very well, Ginny. How much trouble can such a tiny creature cause?"

_ Just you wait and see, Molly_, Bella thought wickedly.

* * *

Later that evening, Bella was curled up on Ginny's bed, eating a bit of Puff treat that the girl had offered her. She was absolutely exhausted. Granger's stupid cat had been trying to get at her ever since she had arrived at the Weasleys'. Bella was convinced that Snape was sitting in that hovel at Spinner's End, getting drunk on elf-made wine, hoping like anything that she had been devoured by the cat. No matter. Soon she would find a way to put him out of commission once and for all--providing she didn't become a cat treat first. 

"You are the sweetest little thing," Ginny gushed, stroking Bella's fur.

_ Think again._

"I feel like I can tell you anything," the girl continued softly.

_ Please don't... unless it's something that will help me present Potter to my Master or end Snape's life._

"But you need a name... "

_Make it a good one at least._

"I think I will call you... Arnold," she finished with a bright smile.

Bella stopped nibbling her treat. _Arnold? Arnold! For the love of Merlin, you dense, irritating girl, I'm a female!_

"Ginny! Supper!" Molly's voice called from downstairs.

"Be right there, Mum!" Without warning, Ginny scooped Bella up, snuggling her briefly to her cheek before depositing her safely in the little carrying cage.

Alone in the confines of her newest prison, Bella paced back and forth, fuming over the latest indignation. This was all Snape's fault! She wasn't exactly sure how it was, but it just had to be. She flopped down in the corner of her cage. She had no choice but to see this through. _I'll make you pay for this, Severus Snape, you slimey, half-blooded worm! I will make you pay._

* * *

A/N: For the record, I know that Bella would probably appear on the Marauder's Map, and that Harry would (hopefully) notice her in the Gryffindor dormitory. That's why I don't think it's a viable theory, but the resulting fic was entertaining at least. Wasn't it? Let me know what you think by leaving a review. 


	4. Skin Deep

_"Dumbledore just can't be dead!"_

_the stricken teary-eyed fans all said._

_How did he slip through death's noose?_

_He and Snape swapped some Polyjuice._

_If death he wanted to escape,_

_why the heck would he pick Snape?_

_Was it to save the Potions master_

_from Unbreakable Vow disaster?_

A/N: Ah yes, Snape was already as good as dead when he made the Unbreakable Vow. As a result of his foolishness, Dumbledore has taken it upon himself to swap bodies with the former Potions master in hopes of saving his greasy-yet-desirable butt. Now when Draco's failure to complete his task brings about the demise of our beloved Snape, it looks like Dumbledore is really the one biting the dust. Yeah, right! I'm sure Dumbledore had much a much better use for that virile, sexy body.

My thanks (and apologies) to my beta team. The things you ladies subject yourselves to in order that others might be entertained.

**Warning: Snape abuse and sex.  
**

* * *

**Skin Deep or Why Dumbledore Really Wanted to Trade Places with Snape**

"Thank you for meeting me here, Severus," Dumbledore said as Snape strode over to him at the prescribed meeting time and place in the Forbidden Forest. "Have you finished brewing a new supply of Polyjuice?"

"I have," the Defense master said in an irritated voice. "I don't see why we need to keep switching bodies."

_Oh, to be back in a fully-functioning body! _Dumbledore thought as he looked at the younger man, a sly smile playing at his lips. He replied brightly, "I assure that it is a very necessary part of my plan to keep you alive, Severus. I know you are getting the raw end of the bargain, but--"

"You take too much for granted, Headmaster," Snape declared through clenched teeth. "Did it ever occur to you that I may not want to do this anymore?"

"Severus, you promised to do what ever it took to defeat Voldemort," the headmaster reminded him. "Now that you are bound by that Unbreakable Vow, you have no choice but to go along with this. One way or another, it will be over by the end of the school year."

Severus glared at him. Death was starting to look like a viable option. He was sick and tired of dragging himself around in Dumbledore's wrinkly, decrepit body. The younger man had come to the conclusion that he certainly did not want to see as many years as the old geezer had. Then again, given his current situation, it was highly unlikely that he would live to see forty. Maybe he should set up an 'accident' for Malfoy just to get out of this mess.

"Fine," Severus grumbled, handing over a vial of Polyjuice and yanking out a long, oily strand of his hair. "I won't have to deal with Potter, will I?"

"Probably not." Dumbledore offered Snape a long white strand. They added the hairs to their own portion of the potion, waiting for the final reaction. Dumbledore raised his vial. "Cheers then." He grimaced as he swallowed the thick, grayish potion. "Slides down easily."

Snape was about to snarl at him for making a crack about his oily hair--there really wasn't much he could do about it--when he began to feel the painful effects of the potion. Of course, the agony didn't exactly end at the completion of the transformation. Not at all; Snape just gained a whole different range of age-related aches and pains.

"God, your knees are about to go, old man," Snape-as-Dumbledore grumbled with a wince. "We won't even mention your back and left shoulder."

Dumbledore-as-Snape smoothed the front of his robes, grinning. "And you seem to be holding onto a significant amount of sexual tension, Severus."

"Don't you dare touch me!" Snape-as-Dumbledore snapped in indignation as Dumbledore-as-Snape adjusted the sizable bulge in the front of his trousers.

"No wonder you scowl so much," he commented, patting the protuberance appreciatively. "We haven't traded places in nearly a month; one would think you would have splurged on a-- "

"I have, not that it's any of your business. I'm warning you," the other wizard barked vehemently, "you are NOT to handle me in any way whatsoever. Not even when you use the toilet."

"Honestly, Severus, you need to relax. We don't actually trade bodies, per se. So if I handle you, I am still really only handling myself. I just happen to inherit the qualities that come along with your body."

_As if that idea is less disgusting,_ Snape thought as he tried to block out a sudden mental image of the old man taking said frustrated matters into his own hands. It was at that point that Snape noticed the lack of tension in the old man's body. _Is it just the effects of advanced age, or is the old man getting laid on a regular basis?_

"Now then, off you go, dear boy. You have a school to run, just like you've always wanted." Dumbledore-as-Snape headed deeper into the Forbidden Forest, pausing to call back over his shoulder. "Don't forget to feed Fawkes while I'm gone!"

"Sod off, you old bugger," Snape-as-Dumbledore grumbled under his breath, stomping back to the castle. "Right now, I would just love to find an opportunity to curse you into oblivion. Leaving me to parade around like some pathetic Father Christmas, while you use my body to do God-only-knows-what." He tripped over a tree root. Cursing loudly, he climbed slowly back to his feet. "Damn! His eyesight is going as well."

A black-robed figure entered a grungy pub at the far end of Knockturn Alley. Dumbledore-as-Snape couldn't tolerate the tension any more. Granted, Snape wasn't much in the looks department, but honestly, to ignore something so essential to one's well-being... Then again, Snape's generally unkempt appearance was proof-positive the man really didn't take very good care of himself.

At any rate, sex was one of the things Dumbledore still appreciated, and Snape's body was the perfect medium to fulfill his desires. However, while it would hardly be fitting for him to be seen in such a place as himself, no one would think twice about poor, unattractive Severus Snape paying for the company of a woman. He decided this time to go to a place he knew Snape frequented on his off-time. He personally would have rather gone to some place a bit less dodgy, but it would only arouse suspicions if Snape was regularly seen at some of the better establishments. He headed toward the bar area.

"Sev'rus," the barman greeted him with a knowing grin. "Would you be liking your usual?"

Dumbledore-as-Snape jerked a nod. The barman snapped his fingers, and a hard-faced, grayish-haired woman in a ratty dress shuffled over to them, thrusting her hand out for the tarnished key the barman was holding. "That'll be two Galleons, same as last time."

_Dear God, I need to give him a pay raise, if for no other reason..._ He stopped the thought, and lowering his voice to mimic Snape's silky tone, asked, "What can I get for say... ten Galleons?"

"Spending big, eh? Did that tight-fisted old todger finally give you a raise?"

_Tight-fisted old... Perhaps I should have him continue to give Harry Occlumency lessons for that one,_ Dumbledore-as-Snape thought testily. "Just get the woman already."

With another snap of his fingers, the barman summoned another woman. This one was much younger; her profession hadn't had an effect on her looks yet. Her coppery hair was neatly combed and her clothing was clean and fashionable. She looked him up and down in shock as she took the room key. Wordlessly, she followed him up the rickety stairs. Once he closed the door behind them, she began to undress, exposing flawless skin and well-proportioned curves. Dumbledore-as-Snape joined her on the bed, reveling in the experienced touch. Severus you really need to live a little.

Forty minutes and two rounds later, Dumbledore-as-Snape flopped over beside the young woman, finally feeling the last of Snape's pent-up tension ebbing out of him.

"Feelin' better, sir?" she asked, running her fingers through the dark mat of hair on his chest.

"Much." He suddenly felt a tingling sensation that had nothing to do with the wonderful pleasure he had just experienced. The Polyjuice Potion was beginning to wear off. He slid out of her embrace and off of the bed, looking through the pockets in his robes. One of the pockets was filled with a thick, glutinous mess--the vial containing the potion had broken! Damn it, he had to leave before the potion ran its course. Hastily, he began to dress, without bothering to clean himself off.

"Wait! You leavin' so soon?" the pretty prostitute asked, pouting.

"Sadly, I need to. Tell me your name so I can request your services again," he said, rapidly doing up the buttons of his shirt. She gave him her name, and he dashed out the door, swinging the traveling cloak around his shoulders. The minute he was out of sight, he Apparated back to Hogwarts.

**Meanwhile back at the castle...**

Snape-as-Dumbledore tried to feed the phoenix, but the bird regarded him with the utmost suspicion. In frustration, he threw the dead mouse down onto the dropping-catcher at the base of the bird's perch. "Fine! Starve to death you stupid, overgrown chicken."

He glared at the flask of Polyjuice, grumbling to himself, "To think Barty slugged down this garbage for almost an entire year."

A knock sounded at the door. _Oh doxy shit! The old man didn't mention any appointments._ Trying to make his voice sound like the headmaster's, he called, "Enter."

The door swung open, and Minerva McGonagall strode in. "Good evening, Albus. This just arrived by owl post, and I thought you would want me to bring it straight up."

_Bloody hell, now what am I going to do? I have no idea what she's talking about. Looks like the old man doesn't trust me as much as I thought._ He cleared his throat. "Let me see it, then."

McGonagall handed him a box wrapped in plain brown paper. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you feeling all right, Albus? Your voice sounds a little off."

Clearing his throat again, even more loudly this time, he mumbled something about a head cold coming on. He undid the wrapping, and to his horror, he saw it contained a bottle of _Madame Erotica'sElixir_.

_Mother of Merlin! Dumbledore and McGonagall have been secretly shagging all this time? Deputy Headmistress, my arse!_ he thought, a vindictive plan to taunt the old lady once he was himself again forming in the back of his mind. "This is very wonderful, Professor McGonagall. Perhaps we can enjoy this later... after you make your curfew rounds?"

"Now, Albus," McGonagall whispered, seductively running her hands down over his chest, "we have plenty of time before we need to make an appearance in the Great Hall."

Snape-as-Dumbledore backed up against the desk, panic flooding him as she uncapped the bottle and handed it to him. He took a swig, hoping like anything that it wouldn't work. No such luck! A tidal wave of sensation--the likes of which he hadn't felt in his own body since his teens--crashed over him.

_This cannot be happening!_ he thought--alarm battling desire--as the old woman began lifting his robes. He was about to have sexual intercourse with his professor-turned-colleague. She was twice his age! No wait, she was half Dumbledore's age! He gasped at her expert touch. Who would have thought that prim and proper Minerva McGonagall would be so gifted in the ways to pleasure a man. Snape-as-Dumbledore gladly submitted to her astonishingly proficient skills. _Oh, what the hell... At least I don't have to pay for it for a change._

Half an hour later, the tangled pile of sweaty, wrinkled flesh and robes stirred. McGonagall, her tight bun askew, sat up and began fumbling around in the pile of robes for her wand. With a quick wave she was returned to her prim and proper self.

"That was worth every Galleon," she said, dressing once again in her robes. Shockingly, Snape-as-Dumbledore found himself agreeing. As disgusting as this had first seemed, he was pleasantly surprised with the results. Perhaps he should order some before his next foray into Knockturn Alley--a bit more gonk for his Galleon. "I'll leave you to tidy up. It won't do for us to be seen arriving in the Great Hall at the same time."

He made to dig his wand out of the layers of fabric, stopping when he realized her seeing the wand would be a dead give-away to his identity He kept it carefully concealed from her sight. Not that it mattered--she had already left. With a satisfied sigh, Snape-as-Dumbledore cleaned himself off with a wave of the wand and began pulling the robes back on. No sooner had he tightened the belt than he began to feel the tingling sensation that signaled the Polyjuice Potion wearing off. He was getting ready to take a swig of the foul stuff when Dumbledore-as-Snape burst into the office. The door closed behind them, and the transformation began.

"It's about bloody time!" Snape snarled, waving his wand so that they were in their correct clothing. "What kept you?"

"I ran into a bit of trouble, and--"

"My robes reek of sex!" the younger man accused. "Is this why you've been trading places with me--to get your jollies? As if you need to leave the castle for that."

"What are you talking about?" the old man asked warily.

"McGonagall came by with a little present for you from Madame Erotica's Boutique. Is that why she's Deputy _Head_-mistress?" he fumed, spelling the offending odors off of his clothing.

"Oh dear, what happened?"

"She accosted me!" The old man blanched at these words. "You should be ashamed of yourself, cavorting with a woman half your age!"

"Severus, that is not your concern."

The younger wizard protested, "It is when it's riding me like a rented Hippogriff."

"You didn't!"

"Sadly, yes."

"I suggest that, for both of our sakes, we try to pretend none of this ever happened. I will never ask you to do this again. I promise."

"Fine." Severus turned on his heel and stormed out of the office.

* * *

Later that evening, as Severus was finishing his evening meal, he noticed a strand of the headmaster's long, white hair clinging to his robe. He eyed the prissy Head of Gryffindor, as she watched the students with her hawk-like gaze. Time for a bit of amusement.

He excused himself and made it a point to walk past McGonagall on his way out. He stopped by her chair and pretended to pick the hair off of her. "Gracious, Professor," he said, quirking an eyebrow and whispering silkily over her shoulder. "How ever did you get one of the headmaster's hairs on your clothing? We wouldn't want any rumors to get started now would we?"

He smirked as the goblet of pumpkin juice slipped from her fingers and smashed on the floor. Oh yes, revenge was going to be sweet.


	5. Just a Happy Little Thought

James Potter's Patronus is a stag! Or is it? Well, it's been pointed out to me that it really isn't a stag. Rowling said so in an interview once. Seriously! Unfortunately, I just can't find the quote now. Anyway, I really love to pick up unlikely, stay theories, shampoo them, feed them, and turn them into crackfic, so me being me and all, I just couldn't resist exploring the possibility of James Potter having something a little more 'unusual' for his Patronus.

The obligatory yadda-yadda-yadda:

1. As always, this is a work of fan fiction written solely for shits and giggles. I own nothing, and no money is being made.

2. This is meant to be humorous. If you happen to be the person who provided the fodder for this plot bunny, please try not to be offended. If you are offended, then that's your problem; not mine. And yes, I do know the basics of what can and can't be a Patronus.

3. James, Sirius, Severus, and any other character that's unfortunate enough to be stuck in this fic are meant to reflect fandom parodies. Read it with a sarcastic tone and you'll get the perfect effect.

* * *

**Just a Happy Little Thought**

As always, Charms class was a bore. James Potter and his brilliant abilities were even far ahead of the N.E.W.T. level work Flitwick was giving them, so he and his best mate Sirius Black decided to spend the class working out the next prank they were going to pull on old Severus Snape.

"Full moon's in twenty days," Sirius muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "Bet we could convince Snivvy to poke the knot on the Whomping Willow?"

James scratched the side of his nose with his quill and shot a side-ways glance past Peter and Sirius to Remus, who looked strained and pale and still had shadows of cuts from his last transformation on his face. Maybe Lupin would... No, Remus wouldn't want to take that kind of a risk.

Two seats in front of him was gorgeous, talented, perfect Lily Evans. James knew she wouldn't be thrilled with him for pulling off such a stunt. Still…. maybe he could put a stop to things at the last minute and be seen as a hero! He indulged in the daydream of Lily swooning into his arms, while Snape groveled and thanked him and promised to drown himself in the lake.

Speaking of Severus Snape, the little wanker was watching Lily as well, no doubt trying to figure out a way to win her back, which, after the O.W.L. incident last year, would probably never happen. If calling Lily a Mudblood in front of the whole school wasn't enough, there was always the fact it had been reveled Snape was hung like a Bowtruckle and not a mountain troll.

"Mr. Potter!"

James started. "Yes, Professor Flitwick!"

"Good, now that I finally have your attention, could you kindly tell me what a Patronus is and the incantation for conjuring one?" Flitwick shifted his weight on the wobbly pile of books and smiled at him expectantly.

James glanced around the room, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. Lily rolled her eyes, but the ghost of a smile made her lips twitch. He flashed a grin in her direction. Across the aisle, Snape glared triumphantly until he saw Lily's discreet flirtations. James snickered at the smudge of ink on Snape's giant conk.

"We're waiting, Mr. Potter."

"Er… Patronuses—"

"It's Patroni." Flitwick shook his head and sighed. "Merlin's beard, I told Headmaster Dippet it was a terrible idea to stop teaching Latin. Pity Headmaster Dumbledore couldn't see the point in re-instating the class."

James stood up and cleared his throat. "A Patronus—plural being Patroni—acts as a guardian for the wizard or witch who casts it using the incantation _Expecto Patronum_. The Patronus is a manifestation of the caster's happiest thought and can be used to repel both Dementors and Lethifolds." James had a flash of comedic inspiration. "Usually takes on the form of an animal, but I suppose, in very rare instances, it could take on the form of an inanimate object."

Snape's hand shot into the air, yanking his scrawny buttocks from the bench.

"Yes, Mr. Snape?" squeaked Flitwick.

"Even a complete _ignoramus_ knows a corporeal Patronus ALWAYS takes an animal form, and that animal form is linked with the caster's potential Animagus form," Snape said, scowling at James. "I think Potter's just trying to get attention."

Sirius leaned back in his seat. "I bet if the caster's thought was happy enough, it could, theoretically, take on the shape of whatever makes that person happy." There was a smattering of laughter. "Seriously, if my happiest thought was eating a triple-scoop, choco-loganberry sundae with caramel, whipped cream, and walnuts, I really think my Patronus could be a triple-scoop, choco-loganberry sundae with caramel, whipped cream, and walnuts!" The class laughed louder. "If such things make up my happiest memories, then why not?"

"Well then, Mr. Black," began a beaming Flitwick, "we will get to test that theory. It's time to practice the wand movement for the Expecto Patronum incantation. To your feet, ladies and gentlemen, and wands out, please!"

Peter leaned over to Sirius and James, saying with a snicker, "Just a little happy thought, now, boys and girls!"

"What's yours, Wormtail?" asked Sirius, grinning. "Free cheese day at the Three Broomsticks?"

"And yours is a bitch in heat," countered Peter with a wink. "At least we know what form our Patronuses will take."

James nodded at the lanky Slytherin. "D'you want to place bets on Snivellus' Patronus?"

"Bat," Sirius and Peter replied in unison.

"And his happy thought?"

His chums both winced, and Peter replied, "I bet it has something to do with two hands and slug slime."

"A-hem!" Flitwick was watching them. "Now, let's practice the wiggle-slash movement a few times."

* * *

That night in their dorm the Marauders practiced casting Patroni. Sirius had no trouble casting one that resembled a huge shaggy dog. After a few dozen tries, Peter finally had a long-tailed rat scurrying around the room. James had been unsurprised to find a stag erupting from his wand. Remus, unfortunately, had only been able to coax a little silvery mist out of the tip of his wand.

"C'mon Remus, after all of our adventures, you've got to have one really happy memory to use," James said, wracking his brain to come up with a suitable memory. "What about—"

"It's no use!" wailed Remus, dropping his wand to the floor. "Nothing's ever going to be good enough because of my furry little problem! I just can't do it!"

"Pecker up, mate," Sirius said, handing Remus back his wand. "I'll come up with something that will be the best memory ever."

The pale boy shrugged. "But what if my Patronus is a wolf? Then everyone will know. Maybe that's why I can't do it."

"Maybe," James agreed. "But isn't that why we should test the inanimate-object-Potronus theory? That way your secret would be safe and we can keep having our adventures."

"But what can we use?" asked Peter as he untied the string around a parcel and opened the box. "Look at this!"

The three boys gathered around the box. Grinning, Peter held up a delicate-looking, blue teacup embellished with lilies and violets.

"Your mum sent you a bloody teacup?" Sirius snorted.

Peter glared at him. "Not just any old teacup. This, my friends, is the proto-type for my uncle's latest invention in the practical joke industry. It's a Nose-biting teacup!"

Remus nodded to Sirius. "Take a sip. Who knows, maybe the sight of you with a teacup hanging off your muzzle will be my happiest memory."

"Oh, very funny!" snapped Sirius. "It's Peter's, so I think he should try it out. If it even works, that is."

"Well," began Peter, clearly losing enthusiasm for the novelty, "they do work, but so far he's only gotten them to bite once."

A light bulb went on in James' head. "I've got it!"

"Got what?"

"The perfect happy memory for Remus, that's what!" When the other three boys looked at James like he'd finally gone 'round the twist, he hinted, "It's a nose-biting teacup, right? So shouldn't its maiden—and possibly only—bite should be on the most obvious, gigantic, and spectacularly enormous nose in all of Hogwarts?"

"Snape!"

"Can you think of anyone else more deserving of the honor?"

"Nope," said Peter, relieved that he wouldn't have to be the test subject.

"No one," Sirius agreed.

Remus smiled uncomfortably. "But how are we going to get him to drink out of it?"

James gave them a devilish grin as he traced the lilies on the teacup. "Leave that to me."

* * *

Friday morning at breakfast, the four friends sat at the Gryffindor table, talking about the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"Should be an easy win for us," said James, as a knot of Slytherins passed their table.

The group halted and glared at them, and Evan Rosier smacked James in the back of the head. "Kiss my arse, Potty."

"Only if you get Snape to drown himself in the lake."

Snape fumbled for his wand, dropping it in the process. "You filthy bas—"

"You seem to be the filthy one, Snivellus," said Sirius, standing up to tower over the scraggly teen, his wand casually concealed beneath his sleeve. "Don't the showers work in the Slytherin bathrooms? Or are you afraid someone might see the Mighty Slytherin Serpent in all of its dinky glory?"

Everyone in earshot burst into raucous laughter. Snape's face turned Gryffindor scarlet and his chin trembled in fury. "I'll see you in Hell for that Black! And you too Potter!"

"Is there a problem?" asked Lily Evans.

Her voice sounded bored, but James could see the faintest twinkle in her eyes. Snape gave her an anguished look before he let his cronies pull him over to the Slytherin table.

"Have any plans after the match tomorrow, Evans?" James asked in his most mature tone, gallantly gesturing to the empty space beside him. "I know this great spot by the—"

"Sorry, but I've got plans." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and flounced to her seat. To James' utter irritation, her seat was directly across the aisle from Snape and she gave Snape the briefest glance before she sat down with a group of giggling girlfriends.

"I'll get her to go out with me yet," James declared, staring after her.

Remus looked doubtful. "I dunno, James, she might patch things up with Snape. Rumor has it he sent her flowers on Valentine's Day."

Before James could reply, there was a commotion at the Slytherin table.

"Get it off me! Get it off me!" shrieked Snape, leaping to his feet and clutching his face. His house mates clustered around him, and Snape started swearing in an increasingly vulgar manner. He spun around with a dainty teacup clinging to his huge nose. "Get this effing thing off me!"

Everyone erupted into laughter as much at the sight of Snape with a teacup hanging off his conk as the fact that the scrawny boy's voice jumped an octave on the word _effing_. The lanky teen danced around, swiping at the teacup, but it wasn't letting go. He tripped over his own robes and fell, sprawling across Lily Evans. The students from all four houses roared even louder.

She shoved Snape off her and drew her wand. _"Finite!"_

The teacup released its hold, fell to the floor, and shattered. The end of Snape's nose was bright red and the swelling had made it look even larger than before. James nearly fell of the bench from laughing. Peter did fall off the bench from laughing. Sirius had his head on the tabletop and was shaking with silent laughter. Remus had his face buried in his hands and looked like he was making a concerted effort not to laugh.

"Mr. Snape, what is all this commotion about?" demanded Headmaster Dumbledore, striding up the aisle.

"It's not my fault!" Snape protested. "It was Potter and Black! I know it was!"

* * *

Later that day in Charms class, James had to make an effort not to even glance in Snape's direction, because every time he did, all he could see was Snape flapping around the Great Hall with a dainty teacup on his nose.

"Now before we begin today, ladies and gentlemen, is there anything you learned about Patroni from your reading?" asked Flitwick from his pile of books.

No one answered. James hadn't felt it necessary to worry about the reading since he could already manage the incantation. What potentially important detail had he missed?

"Miss Evans?"

"It reveals a lot of a person's inner personality." Lily blushed. "It can be used to help soul mates find each other."

"Very good!" a beaming Flitwick gushed. "So all of you little love birds pay attention. If your current fancy has an owl for a Patronus and you have a mouse, it may be a good time to rethink the relationship."

There was a good deal of nervous giggling scattered about the room, and Peter shot Sirius a sarcastic grin. James elbowed Sirius and snickered. Dog and wolf… definitely compatible.

"Let's try out our spell work! Any volunteers?" Flitwick pointed at a surly-looking Ravenclaw at the back of the room. "Mr. Huffington?"

Not more than a faint silver spark was produced.

"Who else has a happy thought?" At this point, Flitwick started going around the room, and the students dutifully showed their progress or lack thereof. Finally he got to Snape.

"Ah. Mr. Snape, let's see what you can produce."

"An enormous grease spot on the floor," muttered Sirius out of the corner of his mouth.

James snickered. "Can you imagine the screams once there's a giant bat flapping around?"

But Snape shook his head, his greasy locks swinging around his shoulders.

"Well after this morning's incident I dare say you would have difficulty." Flitwick moved on. "Miss Evans?"

Lily rose gracefully to her feet, a vision of an angel in James' opinion if one ignored the black robes and lack of wings. She closed her eyes and smiled. The happiness of the thought made her whole face shine like the sun on a summer day. "Expecto Patronum!"

A delicate doe of silver mist erupted from her wand and pranced around the room before leaping over a desk and escaping through a window.

James felt his jaw drop. Hers was a doe! His was a stag! You didn't get much more compatible than that! It was nearly impossible to wait for his turn. Finally Flitwick called on him. James confidently stood up and raised his wand. This was his chance to show her how incredibly, utterly right they were for each other, and if that didn't work, there was always Amortentia.

Unfortunately his concentration was broken by the slightest sigh. He caught sight of Snape staring at Lily with a sappy sentimental look. And then the worst happened. All James could think about was Snape jumping about with that stupid little teacup hanging from his enormous nose. He shook his head trying to dislodge the image while he focused on Lily and her delicate silver doe.

"Expecto Patronum!" But the split second before he uttered the incantation, there was Snape and the teacup and James burst into laughter. Out of the end of James' wand spurted a grotesque shape. A shape that eventually formed into a giant fanged teacup.

"I knew it!" screamed Snape, his eyes bulging with fury. "I told Dumbledore you were behind it! You had the elves give me that cup! I knew it! I knew it!"

As James clutched his side positively howling at the memory, the teacup lunged for Snape. The skinny Slytherin shrieked like a little girl and sprinted from the classroom with the teacup hot on his heels.

"My goodness!" exclaimed Flitwick, as he and his stack of books toppled to the floor. "That's enough for today. Class dismissed!"

* * *

That evening as the four friends rolled with laughter in the relative privacy of their dorm, Sirius wiped his eyes and exclaimed, "It works it really works! Who'd of thought a person could really produce something like that for a Potronus?"

"YOU DID!" James, Remus, and Peter chorused.

"Bad luck about Lily though," Remus said when he gained his composure.

James shrugged. "She'll come around. It's just a matter of time really."

"Snape's madder than a Hippogriff with hemorrhoids," Sirius said. "He'll be itching to get you in trouble, but I've got a great idea for a counter-prank. You'll love this, Moony." And he drew them in closer.

* * *

**A/N** Alrighty, there you have it folks, James Potter's real Patronus is a Nose-biting Teacup, the embodiment of his greatest source of happiness—picking on Severus Snape and his gigantic honker. How could it be any more appropriate? Feel free to leave a little love for my plot bunnies and me on the way out.


End file.
